


movies in my mind

by yeobaek



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Catboy Byun Baekhyun, Dark, Drabble Collection, Hybrids, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, NSFW, bad attempt at everything tbh, bad attempt at pwp, misuse of fanfiction, very dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 13:09:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20489417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeobaek/pseuds/yeobaek
Summary: (mostly inappropriate) baekchen drabble dump.





	movies in my mind

* * *

**phobia.**

  * _gangs and sugar daddies au; 461 words_
  * _m for language and sex, reference to drugs_

'Fear’ doesn’t belong in Baekhyun’s vocabulary.

When you’re as filthy rich as Byun Baekhyun, you can buy your way out of trivial inconveniences such as fear. Fear gets harvested and ground up into pure white powder, gets stuffed into unmarked crates and cadavers and smuggled in through uncharted ports, gets passed under nightclub tables and neon signs written in Chinese characters. Fear gets counted and laundered then deposited into bank accounts registered under different names, all belonging to Baekhyun. Fear gets worn as Armani shirts and Gucci loafers, gets tucked into g-strings and cock-sucking lips.

Few things scare him, but most things fear Baekhyun—flinching when he lifts his feet onto the table in the middle of a board meeting, shivering when his lips lift in a dark smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes on the other side of the roulette wheel, begging for mercy when he points a Glock-35 at their heads in the middle of an abandoned warehouse. Fear follows Baekhyun like an omnipresent shadow, but Baekhyun forgot what fear feels like ages ago, somewhere around his 83rd body count.

When Baekhyun slams into Jongdae, snapping his hips so hard he feels his teeth shake from the force, it’s not fear that has him gripping Jongdae’s hips so tightly that the bruises last for days. When he opens his eyes in the morning and his heart speeds up at the empty space next to him—slowing only when Jongdae trudges sleepily out of the bathroom—it’s not because he’s scared. It’s not insecurity that has him dragging Jongdae by the wrist into designer boutiques, slipping silk scarves around his neck, sucking him off in the ostentatious dressing rooms, pressing thick stacks of bills into his protesting hands.

It's not fear. Fear isn’t an adequate word to describe the pain in his chest when Jongdae’s lips curl into a sweet smile at the sight of Baekhyun parked outside the gates after morning lectures. The panic he feels when Jongdae looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, lips silently forming _those words_ until Baekhyun covers his mouth and fucks the speech out of him. The sharp taste of blood in his mouth when he watches Jongdae laugh, eyes sparkling like half-moons, and has to bite down on his own tongue to keep from saying _it_ himself.

Fear doesn’t apply to Baekhyun and love applies even less. Baekhyun doesn’t do love, doesn’t feel it itch at the tip of his tongue when Jongdae wakes him up with butterfly kisses, doesn’t feel it in the warmth of Jongdae’s fingers as they walk through mid-autumn afternoons together—leaves crunching beneath their feet—doesn’t see it in his own denial because shit, he’s already screwed. Fear is inadequate because Baekhyun’s not scared by his feelings for Jongdae.

He’s fucking terrified.

\---

**psycho (game over).**

  * _crime au; 955 words_
  * _r for descriptions of murder and mental illness_

A conversation with Baekhyun is like stepping into a typhoon: a storm of expressions and gestures, sound and fury flowing from his tongue, whiplash as he jumps from one topic to the next—raw, beautiful, terrifying.

When Baekhyun speaks, words turn physical, language gains tangibility. His fingers sculpt anger, his eyes paint elation, vitriol, yearning, fascination, all tangling together and hurtling toward Jongdae at the speed of a bullet train.

“Tell me where you were on the fourth of August.”

Baekhyun licks his lips, eyes glowing like lightning bolts, hands twitching with anticipation. The edges of his mouth draw into a wide smile, canines gleaming in the overhead lights. The smile of a predator.

“I went berry picking. It rained. I stomped through the fields, splashing mud onto the shrubs. I walked and walked and walked until my hands turned red and my feet turned black.”

Jongdae frowns, thin lines creasing his forehead as he leans forward on his elbows. Baekhyun jerks away as the gap between them shrinks, eyes widening minutely before collapsing into thin slits. He leans back in his chair, fingers tapping sporadically against the table, throat bobbing as he swallows. Jongdae observes him twitch and squirm, prolonging the pause in conversation before responding.

“What kind of berries?”

“Strawberries.”

“What did you do with them?”

Baekhyun’s eyes darken, smile widening into a feral grimace. Jongdae feels chills erupt up the back of his neck as he watches the transformation. A ceiling fan whirs overhead, shadows flicking around them, slashing across their faces.

“I ate them,” Baekhyun titters. He lifts his hand from the table and wriggles his fingers. Jongdae keeps his face carefully blank as he watches the slim digits furl and unfurl. “I crushed them between my fingers and ate them all. I licked off every last drop.”

His tongue flicks out, swiping across his bottom lip as if to punctuate the words. Jongdae’s hand twitches in his lap, eyes following the motion. He clears his throat, fighting to keep the trembling out of his voice.

“Why did you pick them?”

And Baekhyun throws his head back and cackles, shoulders shaking violently as the long column of his neck is exposed. His laughter rings around the room, bouncing off the walls in every direction until Jongdae can’t tell if the noise is spilling out of Baekhyun’s mouth or from inside his own head anymore. His visions wavers.

The laughter cuts off abruptly. Baekhyun stares at him with wide, bloodshot eyes, pupils blown, the skin beneath them bruised by sleepless purple shadows. Jongdae looks deep into their fathomless depths, unable to tear his gaze away, and sees emptiness—sees the landscape of a place he doesn’t want to imagine, doesn’t quite have the courage to face.

“They wouldn’t stop yelling. They still won’t stop yelling.”

His voice is barely a whisper. Jongdae jumps to his feet as Baekhyun suddenly lashes out without warning, violently clawing at his own cheeks and leaving deep gouges in the pale skin. The door bursts open and guards swarm into the room, surrounding them. Jongdae watches, paralysed in place as rivulets of bright red run down Baekhyun's face. Two of the guards grip the prisoner's arms, restraining him as he lunges forward in his seat, eyes wild and frantic on Jongdae.

“WHY WON’T THEY STOP YELLING?!”

Hysteria rings in his voice as he screams, drool leaking from the corners of his mouth, veins in his neck bulging with the force of his shouts. Jongdae stands still as a statue as the guards slip a strait jacket around Baekhyun, binding his flailing limbs. He looks wrecked, more wild animal than human, sobs dissolving into hiccups and then high-pitched giggles, tear tracks staining hollow cheeks.

Jongdae doesn’t look up as he gathers up his file and pen, pushing his chair back to leave. He doesn’t flinch when Baekhyun screams again as he exits, eager to escape the claustrophobic cell. Junmyeon glances up at him as Jongdae shuts the door, sitting slouched in front of the two-way mirror.

“Well?”

Jongdae wordlessly shakes his head, tossing the case file on to the table in front of Junmyeon. It flutters open, front cover flipping back to reveal a profile sheet printed in black and white. Baekhyun’s grainy face stares up at them from the top of the page, right above a clipped group of polaroids from the crime scene. Jongdae stares down at the bodies of Baekhyun’s victims, blood rushing to his head at the sight of their grisly remains. It’s a miracle Chanyeol had even been able to identify them, considering what he’d had to work with. Or what he hadn’t had, more like.

“Batshit crazy.”

Junmyeon sighs tiredly, thumbing through the file. He squints down at a particularly gory autopsy report, scanning the contents before looking away, clucking his tongue.

“Told you so. Sick motherfucker. He’s been uncooperative all week. This is getting us nowhere.”

“We still have time before the execution.”

“He’s as good as dead, Jongdae. Let it go." Finality rings in Junmyeon's tone. "Only God can save him now.”

Jongdae turns away, looking at Baekhyun’s slumped figure through the mirror. The condemned serial killer stares blankly ahead, blood dripping down his neck and puddling at the collar of his strait jacket. His lips tremble every few seconds, like he’s murmuring to himself, or reciting a prayer under his breath.

“No,” Jongdae says, voice somber.

All of a sudden, as if he senses Jongdae watching him, Baekhyun looks up and stares straight at the glass window. There’s no way he can see them on the other side, Jongdae’s certain, but his body shakes with an involuntary shudder when he sees the black wasteland in Baekhyun’s eyes.

“He’s beyond salvation.”

\---

**heavy petting.**

  * _hybrid au; 785 words_
  * _m for raging libido and inappropriate use of catboys_

“I’m disowning you.”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes, tail flicking lazily behind him on the sofa as he lifts a slim hand to inspect his nails. Tawny brown ears flatten unhappily against his head when he catches sight of a hangnail, nose crinkling with distaste.

“I’m too pretty to be disowned.”

Jongdae groans, sagging against the kitchen counter and squeezing the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. He slowly counts down from ten, willing the throbbing in his temple to fade as he breathes in and out. A sharp hiss has him cracking one eye open and groaning once more when he sees Baekhyun with his thumb in his mouth, whimpering pitifully.

He honestly doesn't even know how this became a permanent arrangement. When he’d written his name on the form at the hybrid shelter, the only motivation he’d had was fulfilling the mandatory volunteer hours required at his university. The last thing he’d intended was to adopt the most lascivious tabby to exist in the history of the planet, ever. Jongdae isn't even a cat person—how was he supposed to know some ill-tempered feline would stake a weird animal claim on him?

“For the last time Baekhyun, you cannot just go around _biting people’s asses_.” 

Baekhyun’s thumb slips out of his mouth with a loud _pop_, fingers flexing into annoyed claws as he glares sullenly at Jongdae. Really, he’s about as intimidating as a new-born kitten, but Jongdae’s neither the best judge of character, nor the poster child for self-preservation. If he was, he would’ve run away screaming as soon as the tabby hybrid crawled over the front counter that first day, licking Jongdae’s face and growling _pet me_.

“That harlot was all over you,” Baekhyun hisses.

“Sehun literally just said hello.”

“He was scenting all over you,” the hybrid sniffs disdainfully. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, human. You’re about as bright as a door knob.”

“I…” Jongdae trails off, opting to bang his head repeatedly against the counter instead. He doesn’t look up when he hears rustling on the sofa, or when he feels gentle hands kneading his tense shoulders. Baekhyun’s voice is small as he wraps his arms around Jongdae’s waist, hugging him from behind.

“I’m sorry for biting Sehun.”

Jongdae lets out a long-suffering sigh, raising a hand to rest it gently on top of Baekhyun’s wrist. He turns around in the catboy's embrace, lightly rubbing a perked ear as he kisses the top of his hybrid's head.

“It’s okay. Sorry for snapping at you.”

“I don’t like it when you look at other hybrids,” Baekhyun mumbles. His lips are jutted in a petulant pout. Jongdae chuckles softly, running his hands soothingly up and down Baekhyun’s back. His lips twitch when he hears a quiet mewl escape the cat-boy’s mouth. “You’re mine.” 

“Don’t worry. You’re the only kitty for me.” He tightens his hold on Baekhyun, feeling the vibrations rumble against his chest when the hybrid hums happily. For a moment they stay pressed against each other, basking in the quiet warmth. Jongdae's parting his lips to speak when he pauses, stiffening at the sensation of something prodding his back.

“Baek?”

“Hmm?”

“Why is your tail sliding down my pants?”

Baekhyun tilts his face up at him, mouth stretched in a smug grin. Jongdae’s mind flashes momentarily with images of the Cheshire cat before it fizzes out, promptly going blank at the sensation of Baekhyun’s tail tracing his ass crack. The catboy gently nuzzles his nose against Jongdae’s bobbing Adam’s apple.

“I said I was sorry for biting Sehun. I never said I was sorry for being turned on by your angry face.”

Jongdae feels the blood rush out of his head and straight to his cock as something wet and scratchy slides along his jawline. When Baekhyun softly moans, the sound echoes loudly in Jongdae’s ears, sending chills down his spine.

He’s definitely thinking with his dick as he slides his hands along the curve of Baekhyun’s ass and down to his legs, hooking his fingers around the back of the feline’s thighs to lift him onto the countertop. Baekhyun’s eyes twinkle mischievously when he smirks at Jongdae, pupils dilating as he leans back on his elbows and slowly spreads his legs.

Jongdae gently grabs hold of a leg, lifting it over his shoulder and bending his head to press a kiss to Baekhyun’s ankle. He works his way down, slow, teasing, trailing wet kisses against slim calves, licking the back of Baekhyun's knee, nipping at the soft skin of his inner thigh.

His eyes blaze as he stares up at Baekhyun through sooty lashes, hooking his fingers in the top of the hybrid’s pants.

“_Bad kitty_,” he purrs.

-

**Author's Note:**

> *I'm sorry.


End file.
